


I was calling (for the last time) — The Candle Fic

by larrycaring



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Adult Harry, Adult Liam, Adult Louis, Adult Niall, Adult Zayn, Alternate Universe, And the summary, Angel Louis, Death, Grief, I don't know they're british but live in Wyoming, I guess I have to blame the Originals for this, M/M, Magic, Moving On, Panic Attacks, Please Don't Hate Me, So yeah magic and New Orleans..., Sorrow, because you know the TV show is set in New Orleans, but please read the warning and tags, candle fic, i'm tagging it in case it's triggering, it's a fic, it's not real, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform, louisandharry are soul mates, magical artifact, sad fic, scented candle, so erm;;; RIP F., sorry - Freeform, sort of, they're even twin flames, this fic is kinda something I wrote after one of my loved ones passed away, wyoming - Freeform, ❤️
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 11:58:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5455700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrycaring/pseuds/larrycaring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam clears his throat. "Um, there's something special about this candle." At Harry's one raised eyebrow, he extends, "It is rumoured to grant you any wish when you light the flame." The boy shrugs then, looking unconvinced. "I don't know if it's true. Who knows?"</p><p>Harry chuckles and places the candle on the table. "Thanks, I'll try."</p><p>If Harry's mind unconsciously wants to wish something about Louis, then he tries not to let it appear on his face. </p><p>or Louis has been dead for three months and Harry gets a granted wish that would at the same time break and heal his heart.</p><p>Translation of the fic in <span class="u">spanish</span> by <a href="https://twitter.com/mjjlarents">mjjlarents</a>: click <a href="https://www.wattpad.com/story/99456113-i-was-calling-for-the-last-time-larry-os/parts">here</a> (wattpad).<br/>in <span class="u">portuguese</span> by <a href="https://twitter.com/eucaroles">eucaroles</a>: click <a href="https://my.w.tt/UiNb/Ieb6kSkiyI">here</a> (wattpad).<br/>in <span class="u">polish</span> by <a href="https://twitter.com/Iouiech">Iouiech</a>: click <a href="https://my.w.tt/UiNb/Hposclm9ZJ">here</a> (wattpad).</p>
            </blockquote>





	I was calling (for the last time) — The Candle Fic

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS A WORK OF FANFICTION.
> 
> I don't even know how this story came to my mind??????? But here we are. (Well, maybe it was a way for me to deal with the death of one of my loved ones... I don't know, brains can be fucked up sometimes. At first I wrote the fic for myself, and then it became a Larry one. So here I am, sharing it.)
> 
> Title from the song "You are a memory" by Message to Bears (how ironic... hello RBB).
> 
> Thank you to Noelle (twitter: [@NoelleKailyn](https://twitter.com/NoelleKailyn) // AO3: [Noelle1224](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Noelle1224)) for being my beta.
> 
> The edit is mine but the pictures aren't. Credits to the owner! Also, all the quotes in italic aren't from me. I slightly modified the last one!

_Anyone who has lost a loved one knows that you don’t recover. Instead, you learn to incorporate their absence and memories into your life, and channel your emotional energy toward others. And eventually, your grief will walk beside you instead of consuming you._

Harry is checking for the hundredth times that the house is tidied and cleaned before his best friends arrive when it hits him.

He just stays there by the entrance of the house, rooted to the spot, open-mouthed, as he looks around him with frantic eyes, before collapsing on the ground.

He doesn’t know how long he stays down there, sat on the cold ground of their– _his_ house. 

Before all of that, there used to be scattered shoes everywhere, maybe even a coat on the floor. There used to be a skateboard near the entrance door, with several pairs of Vans gathered together. Just plenty of stuff scattered everywhere.

And now... Now Harry misses all of that.

He starts sobbing as he is hit with the memories of his husband... Who was gone too soon.

Harry can’t help the tears as they fall down his cheeks. His face is painted with distress and sorrow. His vision is blurry, so he closes his eyes and lets the drops run down his face.

His crying is loud and messy, the noisy sobs echoing through the empty house, but no one can hear him. There’s watery snot streaking from his flaring nostrils while his lips can’t stop quivering. He clenches his fists and just lets it out. His chest feels heavy, filled with pain.

Again, no one can hear him, crying desperately and wishing his Louis would come back to him.

Later on, when he inspects his outfit and his face for the last time in the mirror, after cleaning up his face and tapping his cheeks, it looks like nothing happened.

~

“And then Zayn and I drove for hours until we found our way back,” Liam exclaims with laughter as Harry puts an arm around his stomach that is currently hurting him so much because of his giggles. Zayn’s smoking his cigarette, rolling his eyes at the two boys. “I swear this is the last time I listen to him,” Liam finishes the story as he glares fondly at his boyfriend Zayn.

Harry finally catches his breath, although his cheeks are still hurting. It’s been a while since he has laughed that much, and it’s hard to imagine that an hour ago, he was grounded to the floor, in a fetus position, bawling with sorrow.

“I’m glad you had fun, guys,” Harry says when he regains his voice. He sips his tea slowly, smile present on his face. He can feel Zayn’s observing eyes on him, but he ignores it. 

“Yeah... New Orleans was really nice,” Liam sighs with a dreaming look. He rests his back against his chair, his fingers playing with the handle of his mug. He suddenly straightens up, looking at Harry with a grin, eyes twinkling. “Which reminds me! We got you a present!”

Harry arches an eyebrow in surprise at his friend, and the boy sits up from his chair and exits the kitchen. He comes back five seconds later with the present wrapped in a gray gift wrap. 

“Happy birthday, Haz.”

Liam sits back as he holds out the give away to Harry, who puts down his cup of tea on the table and takes the gift. He smiles gently at Liam then looks at Zayn. “You guys didn’t have to.”

The darkened-skin man smiles back as he finally speaks. “We know how much you love random trinkets and objects! New Orleans is full of magic.” Zayn’s eyes flicker at the souvenirs. “It was really amazing, and when we stumbled on this, we knew it was the perfect gift for you.” He winks and Harry beams, starting to unwrap his present.

He discovers a big-sized orange candle, and he automatically leans in to smell the odor (because he knows his friends know him well, after all, he loves scented candles, it’s a well-known fact). The smell of clementine fills his nostrils, and Harry can’t wait to burn the candle, because he has no doubt the smell that will heat up later will be delightful.

He smiles sweetly as his friends. “Thank you guys,” He leans in to hug Liam, then Zayn, and the latter taps him on the shoulder.

Liam clears his throat. “Um, there’s something special about this candle.” At Harry’s one raised eyebrow, he extends, “It is rumored to grant you any wish when you light the flame.” The boy shrugs then, looking unconvinced. “I don’t know if it’s true. Who knows?”

Harry chuckles and places the candle on the table. “Thanks, I’ll try.” 

If Harry’s mind unconsciously wants to wish something about Louis, then he tries not to let it appear on his face. Especially not when Zayn doesn’t take his eyes off Harry.

Once again, Harry ignores it.

~ 

“So... There’s that guy at my office who’s nice an–” Liam starts later, and Harry needs to stop him already.

“Liam,” he sighs, rubbing his forehead with his hand.

The designee shuts his mouth, lips pursed as he stares at his friend while Zayn has gone to the loo.

Harry looks down at the ground. “I’m not ready for this. Not yet. It’s too soon.”

He doesn’t need to look up to see that Liam is probably giving him a sad look.

When he looks up, his friend nods slowly. “I know. But... He really is nice. If you need to just talk... I don’t know, maybe meeting someone else will be good for you, you know?”

Harry doesn’t respond, but Liam continues. “Like... I’m not asking you to go on a date with him, eh. I’m just saying... You could give it a try one day. I’m sure you’ll like him.”

Harry looks away, just as Zayn enters the kitchen. Liam deflates as he rests his back against his chair, still staring at Harry. No one says anything else, and they just drop it.

~

They spend the rest of the afternoon talking and watching a stupid movie on TV, and it’s nice.

Harry forgets a bit of his sadness, even if, sandwiched between his two friends; his mind is automatically filled with flashbacks.

Flashbacks of him and Louis spread on the couch, watching equally stupid movies. Sometimes, Liam, Zayn, and even their other best friend Niall, would join. They used to do that a lot when they were younger. Watching TV, playing FIFA... It became less regular when they all started to become adults and had their own life, settling down. But they always found time to meet up sometimes.

And time was so precious... Harry knew it.

The sun has almost disappeared completely when Liam announces he needs some air and is going to smoke his cigarette outside (because if Zayn doesn’t mind smoking inside, Liam absolutely doesn’t want to). He asks with a look to Zayn if he wants to join, but the latter only shakes his head as he pats Harry’s knee. “Nah, I’m staying in, with the warmth of the house.”

Harry glances at him with a frown. “Just for the warmth? Not for my presence?”

Liam shakes his head fondly as Zayn ruffles Harry’s hair, tugging a curl. “Of course, always enjoying your presence.”

Harry beams at that and rests his head on his friend’s shoulder, and the latter wraps an arm around him.

They stay in a comfortable silence, until Zayn finally asks the question. “How are you, Harry?”

Harry’s answer is quick and automatic. “I’m fine.” He doesn’t shift from his friend’s shoulder, staring at the now muted TV.

He feels Zayn roll his eyes rather than sees it. “How are you _really_ , Haz?”

Harry sighs as he tries to sit up, but Zayn doesn’t move his arm away, if anything, he squeezes Harry harder against him.

Okay then, it seems this conversation will be right now.

Harry realizes he must be lucky. He has succeeded to avoid this conversation for months. Of course, his mother and sister tried, but when they saw Harry would close up on himself, they stopped forcing. His friends were indulgent too, but now it seems to be over.

Harry stands up from the couch with a sigh, starting to move the objects on the coffee table, even if the table doesn’t need cleaning. His cure for him to forget is to always do something else.

He tentatively smiles at Zayn who’s observing him hesitantly, with an apprehensive look on his face, as if he fears that, if he makes a sudden movement, Harry will react badly.

Harry doesn’t want to be treated like this. “I’m fine, really.” 

He walks towards the fireplace to rearrange the position of the picture frames on the mantle, ignoring the pictures in them, ignoring the happy faces he and Louis have on most of them.

He’s busy cleaning up a bit of dust on the mantle of the fireplace (what dust, Harry already cleaned it ten times today), when Zayn speaks behind his back, still sitting on the couch.

“I know what you’re doing,” the boy sighs. “I spoke to your mom. You can decorate absence however you want, but you’re still gonna feel what’s missing. You don’t need to pretend with me, Haz,” he whispers in a gentle tone.

Harry sighs again, more longingly, more desperately. “What do you want me to say, Zayn?” He turns back to look at his friend, quickly dropping his walls. To Zayn, he can never last long. “It’s been three months but the pain is still here.” He shakes his shoulders. “Of course it is.” He chews on his lips, trying to control the tone of his voice. “I feel his absence every day when I open my eyes. It’s like waking up with no teeth in my mouth. I don’t need to run to the mirror to know they are gone,” he finishes in a creaking voice, closing his eyes.

The empty place beside him, in their– his bed, this place that used to always be so warm and comforting, is now always so cold. The smell he used to inhale when he first woke up, that perfume that used to comfort him, is gone.

Sometimes Harry almost forgets how his husband smelt.

And Harry doesn’t want to forget.

He tries so hard to remember, inhaling every item of clothing his boy used to wear.

But everything is fading away. Everything, except the memory and the grief.

Zayn stands up fast, walking closer to Harry, and he immediately drags the curly-haired boy in his arms, squeezing him hard. It feels nice, so Harry relaxes into it. He closes his eyes and exhales, resting his forehead on his friend’s shoulder as Zayn wraps his arms around Harry’s waist, tucking his chin on the boy’s shoulder.

“I miss him so much, Zayn,” Harry murmurs, eyes watering.

Zayn gulps as he licks his lips, getting all misty-eyed. “I miss him, too.”

Liam finds them like that, wrapped in each other’s presence, and he instantly joins them before they eventually make their way to the couch.

They spend the rest of the evening cuddling, with Harry sniffling into his sleeves, a red-eyed Liam soothing his friend, and a fragile Zayn trying to stay strong as he wraps his arms around his two boys.

~

Harry turns off the light of his bathroom and walks towards his empty bed. When he sits down, he notices the scented candle next to his book on the bedside table. Harry always enjoys a quick reading session with scented candles. He smiles at his friends’ gesture and goes down to the kitchen to look for some matches. He also grabs Louis’ blue blanket he had left on the sofa, and then quickly settles down into his bed, tucked in under his warm and comfy sheets. 

Even if something is missing.

He lights the match, carefully bringing the flame to the wick of the candle. Before he tilts it though, he remembers Liam’s previous words. He doesn’t really know why he’s doing it, but he opens his mouth silently and closes his eyes. He concentrates on nothing else but the wish.

One name.

_Louis._

He opens his eyes, chewing on his lips. Then the match makes contact with the wick.

As he’s guessed earlier, the smell of clementine fills the air, the flame heating up. A wind blows through his hair, making Harry frown. Or maybe it’s just his imagination.

He waits, looking stupidly around his room.

But nothing happens.

He huffs to himself, shaking his head as he puts down the candle on the bedside table. “I don’t know what I was expecting.” 

He stays silent for a few seconds, deflating in his bed. He then takes the book and starts reading, trying to lose himself in a happier story, even if life is nothing like what it is said in this book.

He falls asleep to the warm air thanks to the candle, flame dancing as Harry’s heartbeat comes to a slow rhythm.

His last thought is destined to the same person. Always.

~

When he is startled awake, Harry is resting on his right side.

He feels something behind his back. He slowly opens his eyes but doesn’t turn around, because he knows there is nothing behind him.

But still...

It’s like there’s a presence, and if usually something like this would freak someone out, it strangely comforts Harry.

He looks up to the alarm clock, noting it’s only five in the morning. 

So he allows himself some more sleep. 

After all, it’s a Sunday.

~

When he wakes up later, he’s on his other side, and this time, when he opens his eyes, he doesn’t expect what he sees in front of him. 

He doesn’t know if his imagination is playing with him, because he’s imagined so many times to wake up and finds Louis right there, on his side of the bed, looking at him like every morning, with gentle blue eyes, and a sweet smile on his face. His skin bathed in the morning sunlight, as he rests his head in the palm of his hand, elbow sunk in the mattress. 

Many times Harry had surprised Louis watching him, and many times Harry had done the same thing. Because when you wake up next to an angel, or when you wake up in his arms, your home, there is nothing better than that.

This is why Harry finds himself dumbstruck, looking with open wide eyes at a person who’s looking just like Louis.

It must be the sunlight playing with Harry’s mind; because there is no way that the person in front of him is Louis.

But it is...?

Harry hastily sits up, resting on his knees, putting some space between him and the person and... And the person– Louis, sits as well, holding out a hand to Harry, but not trying to reach or touch him.

“Harry...”

Harry’s heart drops from his chest as he struggles to breath. It’s been so long since his name was pronounced this way. By this mouth. And it’s... It’s Louis!

Louis Tomlinson is with him on the bed, looking gently at Harry with a caring look and prudent eyes.

Harry tries to remember how to breathe, only pronouncing with a bit of trouble four words. “You are not real...”

His chest feels heavy, and he feels like his throat is closing up. Oh god, he’s having a panic attack.

This time, the boy who looks like Louis reaches for him, hand grabbing his arm, and Harry gasps at the cold touch, looking with huge eyes at the angel in front of him. He realizes Louis is saying something when he notices his lips moving. 

“Harry, breathe for me.” Louis kneels on the bed, putting his arms on Harry’s shoulders. “Babe, breathe.” His thumbs start massaging Harry, soothing his anxiety with so much attention, the way Louis used to do, and it’s not possible, god it’s not... Louis is dead! He can’t be–

His train of thought is interrupted when cold and firm lips are pressed to his, and Harry automatically holds his breath, keeping his eyes open before promptly relaxing into the kiss, kissing back without any doubt as he closes his eyes.

And it’s not possible, it cannot be real... But yet this kiss feels _so real_.

The two boys part, and Harry doesn’t open his eyes immediately, scared of what he sees. But when he opens them, Louis is still in front of him.

He is real.

Harry gasps, looking at the boy up and down. He raises his hand, touching Louis’ torso, then he trails his fingers down, then up, then his other hand rests on the boy’s shoulder, caressing his arm.

Harry’s eyes are looking at every inch of Louis’ body, and the latter doesn’t say a word, just lets Harry continue what he’s doing.

When Harry finally looks up at the boy he loves, the boy who seems so real, the boy who _is_ real, he finds himself looking into warm eyes. When Louis catches Harry’s gaze, he slowly smiles at him.

“How...” Harry whispers with difficulty. “How are you here...”

He lets his hand linger on Louis’ torso, right there, on his heart. There’s no heartbeat, and Harry doesn’t know if he should freak out, because technically Louis is dead, yeah, but Louis is also right in front of him.

He observes fascinated as Louis’ torso moves as the boy breathes, and yes, he does breath, and Harry looks up again, waiting for Louis to answer.

Louis gives him another smile, before looking over his shoulder. Harry follows his gaze, and his eyes fall on the candle that is still burning bright, not consumed a lot.

When Louis looks at him again, Harry lets out an incredulous laugh. “I–” He lets his arms fall.

He doesn’t even know what to say. He just bursts out in tears, right there, in Louis’ arms. Arms that automatically wrap around him, Louis’ chin on Harry’s head, and Harry can’t believe it is truly real.

His legs crumble as he slouches down on the bed, Louis following him and squeezing him hard, not saying anything. He just feels Louis’ hand running through his curls, as Louis rocks him. “It’s okay Harry, I’m here.”

Pearl shaped tears rapidly stream down his face, and he lets himself cry for minutes, Louis’ soothing words ringing in his ears.

When Harry straightens up, he pulls away abruptly, looking for the hundredth time with bewilderment at Louis.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he says, voice full of wonder and out of breath. “Oh god, Louis,” Harry’s voice creaks, tears still wetting his cheeks. His frantic eyes trace the boy’s face. “I miss you so much.”

Louis’ voice is as unnerved as his when he answers. “I miss you too.” He lets out a shaky breath, dragging Harry into a hug once again. “God, I miss you so much.”

Harry’s head rests on his shoulder, tears wetting Louis’ white shirt, and that’s when Harry takes into account his outfit. His jeans are as white as the shirt, and he’s not wearing any shoes or socks. He is dressed up in all white, as white as the wings of an angel, and it’s probably not a coincidence.

He pulls away as he looks his soul mate up and down, incredulous. “Louis...” he breathes out. “Are you an angel?”

Louis’ wet and shining eyes close as he laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I am. An angel? A ghost?” He takes Harry’s hands in his, squeezing them. “I’d like to think I’m your angel.”

Harry’s mouth twitches up. He licks his lips, tasting his tears.

He can’t stop crying. He can’t believe it’s real.

He squeezes Louis’ hands back, and when Louis brings one of his hands to his mouth, gently kissing it with so much love, Harry finds himself blushing like all those years ago, at their first date, when Louis had kissed him like that too.

However, his gaze falls on the candle. It’s not as big as it was yesterday, and he shortly wonders what will happen once the flame is consumed.

He looks at Louis with widened-eyes, feeling his heart beating faster in his chest, fear growing.

“How long–” his voice creaks, and Louis must know what he is going to ask, because he squeezes his hands in reassurance. Harry still asks, because he needs to know. “How long can you stay?”

Louis’ eyes drop, but when he answers, he turns his gaze on the younger boy. “Giving the size of this candle, I’d say approximately fourteen hours.”

Harry lets out a shaky sob. “Fourt–” He shakes his head, hot tears coming again, blurring his vision. “It’s too short, no,” Louis’ face reflects the same desperation and pain that his face shows.

“I know, Haz. I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, wistfully. “Wishes cannot last forever though. That’s how it is.”

Harry scrunches his noses, sniffling. “I made the wish you’d come back to me.”

“I know,” Louis answers sadly, his eyes reflecting the same sadness as Harry’s. “But I can’t stay here. You know that...” His voice wavers, Harry can hear it. “I don’t belong here anymore...”

Harry keeps shaking his head. “I don’t want you to leave me,” he sobs.

“I know,” the older boy only repeats. 

They don’t say anything else after that. Louis just brings Harry into his arms, and they stay in bed for an hour longer, Louis’ hand caressing and tracing circles on Harry’s arm, while Harry’s hand clings to his boyfriend’s waist, head resting on his chest. Curls tickle Louis’ chin from time to time when Harry moves, and Louis’ nose would crunch up before he’d bury his face into the younger boy’s hair, humming at his smell.

Harry’s thoughts are a mantra of LouisLouisLouisLouis, and he can’t think of anything else except that the boy is right here.

He is in his arms, _he’s home_ , and god, they don’t have all the time in the world and Harry will take advantage of it.

He swiftly sits up, staring ahead of him. He feels Louis’ soft eyes behind him as the older boy speaks. “Harry...?”

Harry turns back in the bed to look at him, but before that he settles his eyes on the alarm clock. It says nine past ten. When Harry still doesn’t say anything, nor does he look at Louis, the older boy takes his hand and squeezes it gently. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

The curly-haired boy shakes his head, finally focusing his gaze on Louis. He just stares at him for a few minutes, and Louis starts feeling confused and lost, but before he can ask anything else again, Harry shakes his head again and beams at Louis. “Nothing! Nothing’s wrong. Everything is fine.”

He pulls Louis’ hand, bringing the boy closer to him. Louis still feels confused at Harry’s sudden behavior. He stares into his green frantic eyes, as the younger boy leans in and pecks him on the lips. “I’m gonna make breakfast,” he announces happily.

He stands up from the bed in a rapid motion, almost stumbling with the sheets, and Louis hesitantly lets go of his hand. Harry turns toward him, smile still present on his face though he looks disturbed. “What do you want?” Harry exclaims. “Oh yes, Yorkshire Tea? Two sugars? Wait, do you even need to eat?” he asks, shocked. He doesn’t let Louis answer though, only nodding at himself. “Never mind! I’m on it! Stay in bed, I’ll be right back,”

He bursts out of the bedroom, quickly climbing down the stairs, heading towards the kitchen. He doesn’t even feel like he’s in control of his body, as his legs carry him towards the cupboards, one hand reaching for the tea, his other one grabbing a cup. He doesn’t even notice his hands shaking, doesn’t pay attention to the increase of his heartbeat, until the tea cup slips from his hand and crashes on the floor. 

He pauses his movement, staring down at the broken cup on the ground. He lets out a shaky breathe, and he feels out of breath, panting. He leans backward against the piece of furniture, and shakes his head as he closes his eyes.

“Harry.”

Harry’s eyes snap open as he turns his head to find Louis by the entrance, looking unsure and hands raised in the air, as if he was approaching a prey. He slowly makes his way towards Harry, avoiding the broken tea cup. Louis’ eyes don’t tear away from Harry’. “It’s okay, Harry,” Louis whispers as he crouches down on the floor to clean up Harry’s mess.

Harry just lets him do it, watching every single one of Louis’ movements, registering the way Louis’ spine melts into his shirt when he leans down, the way his hands move to pick up the broken pieces. He observes as Louis puts everything in the trash.

Then the boy turns toward Harry. The latter stares at his husband’s face, his light-brown hair, his eyes, his nose, his mouth, his chest, his legs, his feet, his whole body...

Louis is truly here.

And he starts crying again. He hears Louis’ footsteps, feels his closeness, feels his touch when the older boy grabs him by the hand and makes him sit at the kitchen table. He lets Louis move in the kitchen, preparing their breakfast, as if everything was normal and Harry just cracks again, resting his elbows on the table, crying in his hands.

Because the sight of Louis pouring water in their cups of tea, putting a spoon in them, bringing the cup to Harry... It’s just a flashback of the life they used to have not so long ago. And yet, it seems like it was a long time ago, and god, Harry missed Louis so much! And he’s here, but not for long, and he’ll have to go back eventually, and Harry doesn’t want this.

He wants so many mornings with Louis, making breakfast while preparing himself to go to work. He wants to spend the rest of his life with Louis, waking up like this and having a lay in, then being interrupted by their children who would burst in their bedroom and jump on their bed while groaning because they’re hungry and they want pancakes. He wants Louis to feed their newest baby while Harry deals with the other kids, trying to make them ready to go to school.

They dreamt so much of their future together. They want– wanted to start a family together...

And now it’s all gone.

Harry will never have this with Louis.

God, _Louis will never have this._ He is _gone_ , and he left so young.

Harry can’t stop crying in his hands, not daring to look at Louis who just sat in front of him, observing the boy while biting his lip. “Please Harry,” Louis finally speaks. “Stop crying, please. I’m sorry baby.”

It just makes Harry cry more. He lets out a sob when Louis’ hands grip his and he has to blink because his vision is full of tears. Louis kneels next to him, he kisses his hands, once, twice, three times, and Harry just lets him.

~

They’re cuddling on the couch, watching TV but not really watching.

It’s like they are having a normal Sunday, chilling together in their house, watching stupid TV shows and movies.

They’re quiet most of the time, and you would think during this time together they would have to talk to each other about lots of things, but no.

It was never like that with them.

They don’t need words, because their touches and kisses are enough.

For now, just their presence is enough.

The talk will be later, when Louis will have to go again.

And Harry doesn’t want to think of that. He frowns just thinking about it. So he cuddles more into Louis’ side, nosing in the crook of Louis’ neck, breathing him in.

~

They spend the day like they always spent their days together.

It’s so easy to fall back into what used to be their life that it is too painful. Harry always breaks down when he remembers it’s not really real, that it is not going to last. But he is tired of crying, so instead he enjoys his last moments with Louis.

Louis makes their lunch, opting for a sandwich with salad. It’s simple, but he is proud of himself for doing it, and Harry loves him so much.

They eat in silence, and when Harry compliments Louis on the food, the boy just grins proudly.

~

They don’t go out of the house. Because one, Harry isn’t sure how people would react if they saw Louis, and two, because he’d rather stay locked in with Louis if it was their last day together.

After all, they just need each other in the end.

~

Harry just goes out of the house to confront the wind because they need some logs for the fire in the living room. It’s almost five in the evening and it’s cold in Wyoming.

He tries to avoid the broken plank that pokes out of the ground of their porch, but then he remembers he fixed it because Louis used to always complain about it, because ’Harold I swear one day I’m gonna hurt myself really bad with this plank, fix it!’.

And that’s when Harry has another breakdown.

This time without Louis seeing him, he allows himself a few minutes to cry, before making his way into the house, finding Louis on the couch, making his move in the Scrabble round they were playing. 

The older boy looks up at the boy. “Finally you’re back.” His big smile quickly disappears when he sees Harry’s face, though he doesn’t say anything.

He doesn’t need to.

~

For dinner, Harry asks Louis to cook again. Because he is too tired, but mainly because... Well, because he won’t ever get to ask for these kinds of things again.

Louis only smiles at him over the rim of his glass of red wine, and nods lovingly. “What do you want me to do, love?”

They are sat face to face on the couch, their legs tangled together, as Louis plays with one of Harry’s toes.

Harry stares into these beautiful blue eyes for a while, watching Louis’ eyelashes touching his cheeks when he blinks or looks down at his glass. He savors the sight of his husband, the pink on Louis’ cheeks, due to the alcohol, who knows, or the cold maybe. Does Louis ever get cold? He tracks the movement when Louis licks his lips.

Louis tilts his head to the side to silently ask Harry if he’s okay.

Harry needs to stop thinking.

He needs to enjoy it while it lasts.

So he clears his throat and with a sob threatening to go out, with difficultly he says. “Chicken stuffed with mozzarella wrapped in parma ham with a side of homemade mash,” he answers slowly, eying Louis’ reaction. The man’s eyes widen in realization.

Because it was Louis’ first cooked meal. Their meal they had at their first date.

Louis’ saddened eyes close, and he sighs, putting his glass down on the coffee table. He leans in and pecks Harry on the lips, and he tastes wine and it’s just so good. “Alright, Harry,” Louis says against his lips in a whisper. 

~

Harry spends the whole cooking preparation watching Louis do everything. Mainly Louis messing around in the kitchen, and finally, finally, Harry lets himself have it. He lets himself enjoy it.

He roars with laughter when Louis does stupid impressions, playing with the food and making up scenarios about the chicken against the mozzarella in parma ham. He actually bursts into laughter when Louis almost slips and falls on the ground and luckily catches himself with the fridge.

Harry’s eyes are filled with tears, but this time, these are tears of joy, and Harry has never felt this happy in a while.

And of course, it’s all thanks to Louis.

They banter for a while, and it’s just the two of them, two lovers messing around in their kitchen, laughing and being in love.

When Louis is setting up the table, Harry goes upstairs to fetch a shirt, because of course Louis and he had to have a food fight at some point. Harry’s shirt is dirty, and he also has a red wine stain because Louis had found it funny to pour it on him.

Harry’s cheeks are hot, almost hurting him from smiling so hard. He shakes his head at himself as Louis’ last stupid joke rings in his ears. He chuckles and can’t wipe the satisfied smile off his face. He takes off his pajama shirt and looks for a sweater in his wardrobe.

Then, when he goes back towards his bed, his eyes fall on the candle on the bedside table. 

Immediately, his smile leaves his face. He feels all choked up again, feeling an awful ball of unease and disgust settling in his throat. He has trouble swallowing the bitter feeling.

The candle is almost all burnt out, and Harry doesn’t want to think of what will happen when it’s all consumed.

So instead he quickly turns away, climbing down the stairs in a hurried pace, and he also manages to make Louis jump when he enters the kitchen.

“Harold,” Louis blurts out as he puts a hand on his heart, and Harry finds it ironic, really, because Louis doesn’t even have a heart apparently, but Harry does, and right now, his heart hurts so fucking much, because Louis is going to leave once again, and Harry’s broken heart will get ripped to pieces again, if it’s possible.

He knows he’s been lucky enough to have this wish granted, but he doesn’t want him to leave, he really doesn’t.

He jogs towards Louis and throws himself at his husband without warning, who thankfully has good reflex because he drops the utensil he had in his hands, and he manages to catch Harry in his arms, who instantly buries his face into Louis’ neck. 

Automatically, Louis’ arms wrap around him, and they stay in silence for a few minutes.

Louis eventually starts humming a song, and they start swinging. Harry’s heart drops when he realizes Louis is singing “Look After You“, and he melts more into Louis’ embrace, almost hurting his nose against Louis’ shoulder, but he doesn’t care. If it was up to him, he would merge with Louis’ body, so that their souls could literally be reunited. 

Because during his whole life of knowing Louis, when they first met, Harry _felt it_. Louis was his soul mate, and nothing could ever change his mind about it. He felt it, and always thought _nothing_ would stand in their way. _Nothing_ could ruin their happiness...

And yet, here they are... Louis just being a memory and disappearing soon. 

Harry’s embrace tightens. Louis doesn’t say anything.

~

They eat their dinner in silence, except from Harry’s happy and pleased sounds at the food, making Louis proud again.

“You know,” Louis swallows his food, “I really felt the pressure again tonight,” he says on a light tone.

Harry arches an eyebrow at that, chewing on his food. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Louis shakes his head with a chuckle, looking down at his plate. “Like... I needed to succeed in this again to have you.”

Harry slowly puts his fork down, looking up to stare in Louis’ eyes, all serious. “You already have me though.”

Louis’ eyes snap up at the genuine tone, and they stare into each other eyes for a few seconds, before Louis’ tender smile appears on his face. “Yeah.”

Harry’s smile is as tender as his, albeit sad. “You know... You’ll always have me,” he confesses in a whisper.

Because Harry is Louis’ last lover. He is his last, and Louis was his first. His first for everything.

For the first time of the day, this time, it’s Louis who breaks down. His beautiful eyes start filling up with tears, as he struggles to take a breathe.

Harry doesn’t stop looking at him, even if his vision gets blurry.

“I–” Louis stops himself while biting his lip, looking away. “I’m so glad I met you, Harry,” Louis confesses suddenly. He looks at Harry. Blue eyes meeting green eyes. “I’m so _so_ grateful I got to meet you. So grateful I married you.” Harry opens his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything. “And I am so grateful I had all this time with you. I really am.” Harry coughs, letting his tears fall, throat tight.Louis continues, “It was short, it really was, and I know we always saw a big future for ourselves, but I am still so thankful because this was maybe short but it was so, so perfect, and I wouldn’t change a thing, Harry.” He lets out a shaky breath, his blue piercing eyes pinning Harry to his chair.

“You were the one for me, and you always will be. I love you so much.”

Harry breaks. He stands up fast, Louis following him, and their lips meet in a salty wet kiss. They kiss like it’s the last time, and it soon is.

They kiss until they’re out of breath, until their lips hurt.

“I love you so much, Louis,” Harry cries as he pants against Louis’ lips.

And from this moment, they know what will be the perfect way to end this exceptional and beautiful night.

Harry doesn’t stop the tears from falling down as Louis starts taking off his shirt. He doesn’t even try to wipe them off, stopped trying a while ago after all, and instead he savors Louis’ own tears, as he undresses him and they make their way upstairs, in _their_ room.

~

Harry’s head is resting on Louis’ chest as the older boy is running his hand through his brown curls. The only light provided is from the lamp on the bedside table, casting a dim light. Of course, the candle is still burning, consuming itself away, as Harry stares at the dancing flame with sleepy eyes. 

“Don’t think about it...” the soft voice breaks the silence as Louis’ chest vibrates under Harry’s ear.

Harry’s mouth feels dry. His eyes are burning.

“I can’t help it,” he confesses with a hoarse voice.

The flame is almost at its destination, and soon, the light will be gone. So will Louis.

Harry’s light. Harry’s love. Harry’s sun. 

Gone, gone, gone.

He feels Louis’ lips on his hair as the older boy kisses him to reassure him.

A few minutes later, and Louis finally breaks the silence.

“I want you to do something for me, Harry...”

Harry stays still on Louis’ chest, and he closes his eyes. “Please, don’t.”

“Harry...”

“Louis. I’m serious, don’t.” Harry tries to keep his voice steady, but Louis can hear the fragility, can hear how his voice creaks at the end.

The older boy moves to sit up, pushing Harry away gently to do the same, and the younger boy reluctantly moves to sit up, but he doesn’t want to look at Louis, he can’t.

Louis takes his wrists between his hands, squeezing. “Harry, please. Look at me.”

Harry bites his lip hard, feeling blood. He shakes his head. “Don’t do it, Louis.” He finally looks at his husband, meeting sad blue eyes. “Don’t you dare say goodbye.” His lips start wobbling.

Louis closes his eyes for a fraction of a second, before he leans in and kisses the younger boy’s forehead. Then he pecks his nose, and his lips. He breathes against Harry’s warm lips, breathes his scent, and savors it with closed eyes.

Harry’s eyes are closed too. He feels goose bumps as Louis’ lips trace his skin. He feels hot, and cold. He feels devastated and safe in Louis’ arm. 

Louis opens his eyes, staring at the beautiful man he was lucky enough to meet and marry. He observes and watches Harry’s features. His emerald eyes, his big and cute nose, his puffy and pink lips, his cheeks... The dimples that aren’t here anymore but used to be. He wants to remember everything from Harry.

As if Harry feels Louis’ gaze on him, and he probably does, he opens his eyes in turn, glassy green eyes meeting the vast ocean.

“Harry...” Louis speaks softly. He needs to be strong for this. For Harry. “I don’t want you to live in the past. Please Harry, do it for me. Move on, and live your life.” Harry shakes his head, but Louis continues, “I can’t handle seeing you sad. You deserve someone to love you.”

The curly-haired boy keeps shaking his head. “But you were the one for me,” he says in a broken voice, and Louis squeezes his grip hard, taking Harry’s hands in his palms, kissing them while looking Harry in the eyes.

“And you were the one for me too,” he replies. “But it doesn’t mean you have to stop here because I’m gone. Please.” He tilts his head. “Promise me you’ll find someone and be happy.”

Harry closes his eyes, his face morphing into unhappiness. “Louis...” he murmurs in answer.

“Please, I beg you. Don’t let my absence prevent you from living.” He shakes Harry’s hands. “Promise me,” Louis demands with a firm voice, making Harry’s eyes snap open.

Harry looks at him longingly, before letting out a low sigh. “I promise...”

Louis gives him a mirthless smile. He then lunges forward and kisses Harry like his life depends on it, and somehow it does.

He kisses Harry until the boy is breathless, he kisses to convey every word Harry already knows.

When they break apart, Louis’ eyes are as wet as Harry’s, and when he blinks, tears fall down.

Louis takes a shaky breathe, sniffling. He stares into Harry’s eyes, raising his eyebrows. “I love you, Harry Tomlinson.”

Harry’s mouth opens as he lets out a sob. 

Louis clutches his hands in his one last time, before dropping them.

Harry almost whines at the loss, face crumbling at the sight. Louis doesn’t stand up from the bed, but he turns around to grab something on the bedside table.

The candle.

He holds it in both of his hands like the most fragile thing in the world. 

And this is it.

Louis and Harry, both face to face, on their knees, with a candle holding Harry’s last piece of his heart.

The wick is all burnt, the candle almost consumed. They maybe have a few minutes.

Louis raises the candle between them, the flame brightening Louis’ tan skin, making his eyes shine.

He is truly breathtaking. Harry will _never_ forget him.

Blue eyes meet green eyes above the flame.

“Do it, Harry,” Louis murmurs.

Harry thinks about throwing the candle away. He thinks about taking Louis in his arms and not letting him go. He wants to keep him forever and he doesn’t want to live without him.

But he’s promised.

He has to let Louis go. That’s how it is. That’s not what they had planned, and this is definitely not what they thought was going to happen, but it did. It did and now Harry must carry on. He must live, for Louis.

But first, he has to blow out the candle.

The curly-haired boy stares at the flame, then he looks up to Louis. He sees in the other boy’s eyes love, tenderness, sorrow, too, but mainly, so much love. 

Harry feels his heartbeat beat against his ribs, he feels like it’s gonna explode and go out. He feels like his heart is gonna burst out for all the love and he feels his respiration accelerate. He feels the hot tears falling down, and he jumps when one of Louis’ hands takes his. 

Harry exhales shakily. He stares for a long time at his husband, memorizing everything. With his other hand, he brings it to Louis’ face, caressing his cheek, his fingers buried in his hair. He lets his hand trail to his jaw, and Louis nuzzles against it.

“I love you so much, Louis Tomlinson,” he finally bursts out. “Thank you for being part of my life. I will always, always love you.”

He grudgingly lets his hand fall, and Louis still watches Harry with so much love.

This time, it’s Louis who rests his hand on Harry’s cheek. He watches Louis’ eyes scanning every inch of his face, and when Louis lets his hand fall in turn, he gives one last tender smile to Harry. “Goodbye, my love.”

Harry takes a shaky breath, the tears never stop from falling. “Goodbye, Louis,” he breathes out.

He can’t do it with his eyes opened.

So he closes them.

He closes them hard, making his eyes crinkle, and seeing only blackness.

He shuts them hard, so so hard.

He inhales, and then he blows.

It feels like the moment is in slow motion, when Harry opens his eyes and the smoke flies away, that the candle hits the mattress. The presence of a hand in his has vanished, leaving tickles on Harry’s skin. Leaving an empty space in front of him. 

And Harry just dissolves into more tears, collapsing onto the bed and hanging on to his sheets, shaking his head uncontrollably.

He cries himself to sleep that night, without much surprise.

_You can shed tears that he is gone, or you can smile because he has lived. You can close your eyes and pray that he’ll come back, or you can open your eyes and see all he’s left. Your heart can be empty because you can’t see him, or you can be full of the love you shared. You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday, or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday. You can remember him only that he is gone, or you can cherish his memory and let it live on. You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back. Or you can do what he’d want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on._

~

When Harry wakes up, it’s like he’s waking up from a dream. And maybe it was?

But when Harry wipes the sleepiness from his face by rubbing a hand on his cheek, when he puts a feet on the floor and that he hits the candle, everything just crashes down on him. 

It was real.

And Harry lets himself fall to the floor, staring at the little candle in his hands for a few seconds.

And suddenly, it’s like he has an epiphany.

He stands up fast, feeling dizzy under the sudden movement, but he doesn’t pay attention. He just runs down the stairs, grabs his laptop, and starts googling about magic candles.

It is just when he’s scrolling down pages and pages and almost clicking on the button “buy“, that Harry can’t resolve to do it.

He just can’t. Not when he promised Louis to move on. At least to try.

He can’t allow himself to live in a fantasy, something that is no longer real, that doesn’t belong here anymore.

He stares at the computer screen, before clutching the burned candle against his chest, closing his eyes.

He inhales and exhales. “I promise you, Louis.” He kisses the candle lightly, whispering his promise. “I love you.” 

~

Later that day, Harry goes to the cemetery.

It’s been a few weeks since he last visited.

This time though, he is ready. Ready to fulfill his promise, ready to move on.

To mark this promise, he brings the candle with him.

When he arrives in front of the grave, reading the words: “To Louis Tomlinson, beloved son, brother and husband”, his vision gets blurry.

He sniffles, crouches down and puts the candle between two bouquets of flowers. There’s a bouquet of yellow roses, and Harry remembers Niall talking about bringing them. He smiles slightly and stands up, staring at the candle.

Harry exhales, closing his eyes, as the wind blows his hair.

Behind his lashes, he sees the flashing smile of a smart and bright boy that illuminated his life like no else did.

And he will eternally be grateful for that.

~

It takes four short and two long relationships for Harry to finally find the right partner.

The first time he had sex with another man besides Louis, he couldn’t help but feel guilty, thinking of his lost husband as he came while trying to force himself to pronounce the right name.

But now, years later, he found a new man, who found his way to his heart, made it heal a bit, and Harry feels content.

He still visits Louis’ grave from time to time. Most of the time alone, but not always.

Now his new husband stands by his side, a comforting look on his face with his hand caressing his hip. He leans in to kiss Harry on the cheek, and walks away to leave Harry some privacy. Harry gives him a silent thankful look.

He turns his attention on the grave.

“Louis,” he reads the name out loud, saluting his lost husband.

The tears still threaten to fall, it’s never easy. It probably never will be.

It’s been so long now since Louis has been gone, that Harry almost forgets what his voice sounded like. He sometimes watches videos, to remind himself. He watches the face of the boy he loves so much, the boy he will never stop loving.

He always remembers some souvenirs he had with Louis. There’s always a little thing that would come up and Harry would automatically think of Louis. 

But despite all of this, Harry managed to move on. He kept his promise to Louis. 

He is happy, with a new husband. They’ve been together for 2 years, married for 6 months. They’ve even started discussing about having kids. Harry would almost not think of the fact that this is the life he should have with Louis. Instead, he smiles and lives happily because he is going to get it with another incredible man.

Harry will keep living, but never, ever, will he forget about Louis.

Harry sighs, licking his lip. “Just because you are gone doesn’t mean you are out of my mind,” he whispers. He then looks up to the sky, blinking a few times.

“I promised you I would find someone else, Louis.” He looks down at the gravestone. “And I think he’s right for me. I hope you like him too. Because I do.” He glances at his husband a few graves away, who’s playing with the leaves by his feet.

Harry smiles, returning his attention to the grave. “I miss you... I hope you’re proud of me.”

He takes a few steps back, still eyeing the tomb. “Wait for me up there, yeah?” he laughs quietly, before his smile quickly drops. “You’ll always be in my heart, Louis.” He sniffles, swallowing the ball in his throat. “Yours sincerely, Harry.”

The wind blows through his hair, and Harry closes his eyes, letting a tear fall.

_When someone you love dies, you never quite get over it. You just slowly learn how to go on without them. But always keeping them tucked safely in your heart._

**Author's Note:**

> **Thank you for reading. I'm sorry if you shed a tear. I cried while writing this to be honest.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Hope you liked it. Go read my other fics. Of course, it's not an order. Just an advice. Please. Pretty please? :D**
> 
>  
> 
> **Kudos and comments would be much appreciated!**
> 
>  
> 
> **[Click[here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/larrycaring/pseuds/larrycaring/works) to see and read all my other works!]**
> 
>  
> 
> **Twitter:**  
> [@larrycaring](https://twitter.com/larrycaring)  
>  **Tumblr:[mystupidamours](http://mystupidamours.tumblr.com/)**


End file.
